For Forever
by UltimateDrarryQueen
Summary: Have you ever wondered what would have happened if Connor had just given the damn letter back? Well, now you can find out. Rated M for (trigger warning) mention of suicide and self harm.
1. Find A Letter

_Dear Evan Hansen,_ I type. My fingers hover over the keyboard as I rack my brain, searching for something, anything, that could possibly describe the day I had. _Turns out this wasn't an amazing day after all. This isn't gonna be an amazing week or an amazing year, cause why would it be?_ I think back to this morning, Connor Murphy pushing me to the ground and his little sister…his sister coming to save me. Zoe. _Oh, I know, because there's Zoe. All my hope is pinned on Zoe who I don't even know and who doesn't know me but you know maybe if I could just talk to her then maybe…_ I pause. _Maybe nothing would be different at all. I wish everything was different. I wish that anything I said mattered to anyone. I mean, face it, would anyone even notice if I just…disappeared tomorrow?_ My mother's face flashes into my head and I consider pressing backspace and erasing all of it but instead I just nod and type _Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend, me._ I lean back in my chair and look around at the almost empty library – the only other person here is facing away from me with their hood up, so I'm unsure as to who it is. Not like I would say hey if I recognised them. Not like I had anybody to recognise.

I guide the mouse to the print button and listen to the quiet chugging of the printer a few metres away from me as I close the word document, hitting "Don't Save" and logging out of the library computer. I push away from the desk and stand up, but as I do there's a loud crash behind me. I turn and see Ms Potter, the librarian, on her knees picking up a pile of books that had fallen to the floor. I hurry over to her and pick up the last few with my good arm, putting them on the desk beside her. She gives me a forced smile and rushes away.

There's a movement in the corner of my eye and I turn to see the hooded figure picking up their bag and walking towards the exit. They turn their head for a spilt second and my heart drops as I see who is underneath the hood. Connor stops, noticing me, and heads in a different direction to the exit. My stuff is still over by the computers so I grab it and walk hurriedly out of the library, letting the door slam shut behind me. I pause. I don't know what for, I just pause. There's a wall to my left so I lean against it and just breathe for a while.

"So." I nearly jump out of my skin as the unexpected voice from behind me. I turn, and there he is. Connor Murphy. His hood is down now, and his backpack is slung over one shoulder. His jacket sleeves have been pushed up to the elbows and he's holding a single sheet of paper in his left hand, which is swinging loosely by his side. "Um, what happened to your arm?" He gestures towards my cast.

"Oh, I um - I fell out of a tree actually."

"Fell out of a tree."

"Yeah." I say, nodding.

"Well that is just the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard, oh my god."

I force a laugh. "I know."

He points at my arm again. "Um, no one's signed your cast."

"No, I know."

"Well I'll sign it." He takes a step towards me.

"Oh, y-you don't have to." My voice cracks.

"Do you, uh, have a Sharpie?"

I reach into my pocket for the chunky marker pen my mother gave me this morning and hold it out to him. Connor yanks my arm towards him.

"Ow."

He ignores me and starts writing a C that takes up the whole width of my arm, followed by an equally large O, two Ns, another O and finally an R. He gives me a quick smile and steps back.

"Oh great thanks."

Connor reaches up and scratches the back of his head. "Yeah well now we can both pretend that we have friends."

"Good point." I mumble, and I start to walk away.

"Is this yours?" I turn and see Connor holding up the sheet of paper. "I found it on the printer. _Dear Evan Hansen._ That's your name, right?"

Suddenly it becomes harder to breathe. Has Connor read my letter? _No,_ I tell myself. _If he'd read the letter he wouldn't have signed your cast._

"It's just a stupid paper that I had to write, it's - it's for an assignment."

I try to grab it from him but he pulls it away. I look at him, panicking, and he must notice the fear in my eyes because he holds it out and says, "Nah, I'm just messing with you. Here."

I take it from him and I fold it up, tucking it into the pocket of my jeans.

"So, Evan Hansen…what are you doing tonight?"


	2. Drive The Winding Country Roads

I open the passenger side door of my dusty grey Ford Fiesta, and Evan slides in, closing the door behind him. I walk around the car and climb in the other side. He looks up, startled, as I bang the door shut. I rest my head back on the seat and take a deep breath before putting the key in the ignition and pulling out of the empty school parking lot. We're both silent for a number of minutes, Evan watching the trees and houses pass as I drive us down lanes I haven't been down in years.

I clear my throat. "So, what's the letter for?"

He starts fiddling with the window button. "It's just, uh…just for a class, you know?" There's a low hum as the window rolls down and I feel a sudden breeze on the side of my face.

"Which class?"

"What?"

"Which class did you have to write the letter for?"

Evan just sits in silence for a few minutes, so I lean forward and switch the radio on, one hand still on the wheel.

"Choose a station." I tell him.

He spends a while flicking through stations, and eventually settles on a cheesy pop song and goes back to watching trees pass. "I've never been this way before."

I nod, keeping my eyes on the road. "Me and my family used to come this way all the time. It leads to the orchard. That's where we're going."

"Is it far? Not that it matters anyway because my mom is at work so I don't-"

"No." I interrupt him, not really interested in his rambling. "We're nearly there."

Evan suddenly reaches forward and turns the radio off.

"You okay?" I turn my head to look at him.

"Uh…" He clears his throat. "That letter wasn't for a class."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "No?"

"It was for my therapist. Uh, I had to write a letter saying _Dear Evan Hansen, this is gonna be a good day and here's why,_ except today wasn't a good day and I haven't had a good day in a long time actually."

I just carry on driving, silently willing him to carry on talking as I don't have anything to say to fill the silence. I hear him breathing, ragged and unsteady. I glance at him, and there are tears in his eyes.

"I haven't had a good day in a long time either."

He looks at me. "You haven't?"

"Nope. My whole family hates me and I have no friends, how could I possibly have a good day?"

"I suppose…"

There's another silence.

"Can I just-"

"Go for it."

He sighs. "Well…" He glances down at his cast. "I don't know if you knew this, but I worked at the state park this summer. I was uh, a park ranger."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, it was uh, it was pretty cool, I'm like a tree expert now."

"Oh, awesome. Trees are pretty cool I guess."

"Yeah well anyway there was this one day a couple of weeks ago where um, well there was this really tall oak tree…"

"And you climbed it?"

Evan clears his throat. "Yeah. I guess I sorta just wondered how the world would look from up so high." He pauses. "Well anyway I climbed higher and higher, one branch after another, and suddenly the whole sun was shining on my face. It was amazing."

"And then…?"

"And then I thought, _what would happen if the branch just gave way?_ "

"Evan…" I turn my head and see tears streaming down his face. "Did you fall out of that tree…or did you let go?"

A couple of minutes pass, though it feels like years. "I never meant to make it such a mess." He brings his hand up to his face and wipes it dry with his sleeve. "I thought that would be it, you know? I didn't think I'd have to keep living, keep thinking about how much of a failure I am."

I stay quiet, both of my hands on the wheel, staring straight ahead, taking deep even breaths. This kid just completely opened up to me. Does that mean I should do the same? I shake the thought out of my head. I can't tell him. Not yet.

"Uh, I saw what you wrote…"

Evan's head jolts up. "What did you see?"

"Nothing, just um…about my sister?" I see him tense up out of the corner of my eye. "It's nothing, I'm not mad. Plenty of guys have a crush on Zoe."

"I don't have a crush on Zoe!" Evan says, his voice cracking.

"Sure you don't." I glance at him. "That's why you're blushing."

"I'm not blushing!" he says as his cheeks turn red.

I chuckle. "It's cool. People have written creepier shit about my sister than that, don't worry."

He relaxes, slouching in his seat.

I spot a sign in the distance and lean forward in my seat to see it clearer. There's an ice cream cone on the sign and underneath are three French words I haven't seen in years. A smile spreads across my face as I turn on my indicator, and follow the short road to À La Mode ice cream parlour.


End file.
